


Bannock, Borscht, and Babies

by holls



Series: Unexpecting [5]
Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Cute, Implied Mpreg, Kid Fic, M/M, Tons of kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-30
Updated: 2011-12-30
Packaged: 2017-10-28 11:59:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/307651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holls/pseuds/holls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scotty and Pavel celebrate the birthdays of their youngest sons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bannock, Borscht, and Babies

**Author's Note:**

> The final part of the Unexpecting series.
> 
> Most of the parts of this actually came from Kink Meme prompts that I strung together, and I enjoyed writing them immensely.

_Robert Pavlovich Scott had been a miracle in every sense of the word. The first child born to two fathers, the result of an accident on an away mission involving a rare plant and the effect it's thorns and pollen had on his young father's body, who not only managed to be conceived, but survived almost forty weeks of gestation. He entered the world as a happy, healthy boy, welcomed and immediately adored by his parents, family and a close circle of friends, none of who could ever imagine that there could be another miracle like him, ._

 _Two years later, the impossible occurred when Robert was told he was going to be a big brother. The pollen, it seemed, had left an effect more permanent than anyone had initially believed, and though it had lay dormant for two years, it had awoken, and the result was an eight pound boy named Ilya Montgomery. It was after his birth when the hormone was isolated inside of his father's body, and the cause of it's re-activation was discovered. With that information in mind, Dmitri Edward was conceived and born the following year._

 _Almost three years passed before they decided that one more child couldn't possibly hurt, and twin girls Francis Isidora and Moira Valentina were born. Yuri Malcolm came two years after that when Ilya begged his parents for another Russian named child, and it was Robbie that named Simon Maksim who followed less than a year later. Another three year gap followed by a second set of twin girls, Anastasia Nyota and Olesya Regina, who both parents decided would be the last of their brood._

 _Fate would have another plan in store, however, bringing along three identical boys christened David Walter, Mark James, and Alexei Leonard. Unfortunately, the strain of their pregnancy almost caused their father to exit the world as they entered it, and even if they had wanted to continue expanding their family, the Scotts were forced to draw a line at twelve, an impressive number even for a traditional couple, much less two males._

 _When they had been given the news, Montgomery Scott reached down and took his husband's hand, squeezing it as a pressed a kiss against his knuckles. Kneeling beside the hospital bed, he reached his other hand up to gently stroke back the damp curls from his husband's brow. He could see the hurt in Pavel's eyes, he knew that Pavel blamed himself for this, despite the fact they had both insisted that twelve was enough. Montgomery knew his husband well after fourteen years of marriage, it was the finality of being told they were done, that the choice was no longer theirs, that troubled Pavel so._

 _"You did good, my love," Scotty whispered, cupping Pavel's cheek. "My God, you did good..."_

 _As Pavel broke down crying, Scotty leaned forward, gathering him into his arms and holding him as tightly as he dared. He couldn't blame Pavel, not after everything he'd been through to bring the triplets into the world, and Scotty was certain that given some time, Pavel would accept the news. After all, at the moment, he'd just given birth to three children, he was a mess hormonally, as well as physically. He needed time to heal, and process the news, and to realize that three newborns on top of nine other children, the oldest of whom was barely fourteen, were going to be all the kids they could possibly handle._

 _Thankfully, that didn't take long, and after a few nearly sleepless months, Pavel was more than ready to say goodbye to diapers, midnight feedings, and teething all together. On top of caring for three babies, they had two pre-schoolers who demanded attention, as well as two very mischievous little boys, two girls who claimed to be too old for everything at only eight, and three boys entering their awkward teenage years who celebrated their passage into manhood by constantly fighting. Though he wouldn't have traded any of his children for anything, Pavel had to agree with his husband that twelve was definitely more than enough._

 _After all, they were blessed enough to have even had one child, much less eleven more. It was a thought that was never far from either Scotty or Pavel's minds, even if their miracles were being less than angelic._

"Pa-PAAA!"

"No, Papa, don't listen to him, he's going to lie!"

"You're the liar!"

"Fine! Here's a lie! You smell nice and you're not ugly!"

"You're a poop face!"

"BOYS!" Pavel said as he looked up from changing Alexei, exasperated already by all the fighting, not a good sign considering it wasn't even lunch time yet. "Stop fighting so much, or you're not getting any cake later. You apologize to each other right now and go play nicely!"

Yuri and Simon turned to look at each other, both narrowing their eyes in distrust. Playing nice meant no hitting, screaming, or anything really fun, but they knew when their Papa meant business. They'd missed out on cake in the past, which was made even worse when their older brothers made such a show about how delicious it was.

"I'm sorry..." Simon said, mentally adding 'that you're such a poop face' to the end of his sentence.

"Yeah, sorry," Yuri grumbled, not looking impressed that he had to play nice with his greatest foe. Why his parents had insisted on having such an evil child was beyond him.

"That is better," Pavel said, picking Alexei up, straightening his clothing and setting him on his feet, keeping his hands ready in case the little boy toppled over. "Now, go play until it is time for the party."

"And cake?" Simon asked.

"That will depend on how well you play, yes?" Pavel said, standing up himself. "Off you go."

He sighed as Yuri and Simon scurried towards their bedroom, wondering if he should make tidying up after themselves a prerequisite for cake as well. Before he had time to think it over more, Alexei decided to busy himself by pulling everything he could reach off a shelf, crying out when he realized there were no more pictures for him to throw on the floor.

"All the toys we have and you just want to play with picture frames..." Pavel sighed, bending down to pick up his youngest son, heading towards the nursery where Dmitri had been occupying Mark and David for him. "How are they behaving, Dima?"

"They're alright, they keep headbutting me, though..." Dmitri said, sitting cross legged on the floor as David approached, pressing his little hand against Dmitri's mouth. "Mmmpfh!!"

David laughed in delight, rewarding his brother for making him laugh by smacking his nose.

"David!" Pavel scolded, picking the boy up and turning him away from Dmitri and towards the blocks that Alexei and Mark were now busying themselves with. "Did your father say when he was going to be home?"

"He said it shouldn't take long with everyone helping him out," Dmitri said, getting to his feet. "Speaking of helping him out..."

Pavel looked down at the busy triplets, pausing for a second to hear Yuri and Simon actually getting along in the other room, and the sounds of Olesya and Anastasia talking and colouring away at the table.

"Go ahead," Pavel said, gesturing for the door. "I have it under control."

"Thanks, Papa!" Dmitri grinned, pausing to give Pavel a kiss on the cheek before bolting for the door.

"Don't run! If Uncle Spock caught you..!" Pavel warned, knowing he didn't need to finish that sentence, smiling a little as Dmitri immediate slowed his pace. "Thank you."

Pavel watched his third son leave with a little chuckle, amused by Dmitri's seemingly endless enthusiasm. He claimed that the boy had inherited it from Monty, but he knew his husband thought it was the other way around. He had to admit, however, that there was a good chance they were both guilty of it considering it was a trait shared by almost all of the children, though some were more extroverted about it than others.

"Papa, look!" a little voice said before it's little owner came into sight, holding up a picture. "I drew the babies!'

"That is beautiful Anya," Pavel said, smiling at her. "...but why are they orange?"

"They got into the bloody repa-cator again and got squash aaaall over!" Anastasia said proudly, living up to her reputation as Scotty's daughter already. "And this is you, and you're sayin' 'Not agaaaain' and Da' is sayin' 'oh look, I hafta go to work!'."

Pavel burst out laughing, reminding himself to write that one down.

"And does Papa let him go to work?" he asked, looking at the figures on the colouring pad.

"Noooope!" Anastasia grinned. "You got his arm and you sayin' to him 'Don't think so! You get back here!'"

She continued to smile as she watched her father laugh, delighted that she could make him so happy. She liked happy laughing Papa much more than angry Papa, so she always tried to make an effort to do things to amuse him.

"I like this picture very much, thank you, Anya," Pavel said once he'd calmed down. "Thank you very much, we will have to save this, yes?"

Anastasia nodded proudly, taking the colouring pad back from her father, carrying it back into the other room to brag to her sister about how much Papa had liked her picture. This earned her a scowl from Olesya, who promptly began to work harder on her picture, hoping to be the victor in the end. Unlike their older twin sisters, Anastasia and Olesya tended to turn everything into a competition rather than just play, causing more than a few fights between them.

"What are you two going to wear to the party?" Pavel asked, walking over to see what Olesya was working on. "Oh that is very pretty, Olesya, is that the ship?"

Olesya gave her sister a grin as if to say 'see, Papa likes MY picture now'.

"Yes, that the ship, that the planet, that the stars..." Olesya announced as she pointed to everything. "And I wearin' my blue dress."

"No, I wearin' blue dress!" Anastasia argued. "I said!"

"No, I said!" Olesya shot back.

"How about...oh, you know the dresses that your Granny sent you? Why not them? That would make your Da very happy to see you wear those," Pavel asked, hoping the little red and green tartan dresses would satisfy them both, watching as both girls seemed to mull it over before nodding and smiling. "Good...that is settled, we will braid your hair and get you dressed and Da will be so happy."

He sighed in relief as both girls seemed excited at the prospect. Excitement meant that the bickering would stop, and he could concentrate on getting all the boys ready. He figured he could get Yuri and Simon ready right after the girls, maybe put on a video or something to keep them still and out of messes while he dealt with the triplets, including their very unruly curls. Why Scotty would only let the boys with straight hair keep theirs short was beyond him, but then again, he'd never had to deal with having curly hair himself. Dmitri, Yuri, and the triplets shared his his pain on that issue, but at least Moira and Anastasia's curls tamed a bit with length.

As Pavel went down the mental list in his head of things he had to do, including finding time to get himself dressed and ready, there came a terrific crash from the other room loud enough to make the girls jump and the triplets to start wailing in the nursery.

"Noooothin', Papa!" sang two overly innocent sounding voices, barely heard over the sound of wailing. "It's nothin'!"

Pavel winced. 'Nothing' always meant something big, and usually unfixable. Heading to the nursery to comfort his sons before dealing with whatever the others had done, Pavel wondered if his husband was having an easier time with decorating than he was with just keeping the kids from destroying the place.

 

Scotty stood back, PADD in hand, surveying the efforts of his elder children as they prepared the rec room for their youngest brothers' birthday party. It was a family tradition to have a large celebration when each of the kids had turned one, and this was the first year that Scotty had taken the reigns on the actual planning and decoration. He figured that Pavel deserved a break from the chaos, he could just spend a relaxing morning at home while Scotty dealt with everything.

"Da', will you tell Ilya to stop being a dick?" Robbie snapped as he pulled a stack of chairs away from his younger brother.

"Depends on what he's doing, what are you doing, Ilya?" Scotty asked, walking over.

"I'm trying to put the chairs out of the way instead of in the middle of the bloody floor!" Ilya argued. "Robbie's so stupid, he wants everyone to break their legs and die!"

"Oh my GOD, you don't even know what I was going to do with them, I was moving them over here to disperse them in a semi circle branching out from the corners of the table so everyone ca-Ilya, knock it off!" Robbie yelled, about to take a swing at his brother to knock the goofy smile off his face when Scotty pushed between them with an angry sigh.

"Robbie, that sounds fine, do that, and Ilya, knock it off or you'll be serving another grounding with Uncle Spock," Scotty said, putting his hand on Ilya's shoulder to turn him around, giving him a push towards the replicator. "Start working on food. Now."

"But Da!" Ilya began to protest, quickly quieted by a stern look. "Fine..."

Scotty watched as Ilya sulked over to the replicator and began to order the food Pavel had written on the list. It was their usual mix of Scottish and Russian food, with a few other favourites thrown in, and Scotty had to admit that he was looking forward to the pelmeni as much as the haggis.

"Da, this cake is ridiculous!"

"Because you're being a bloody perfectionist! They're babies, not pastry judges!"

Scotty was regretfully broken from his food-filled reverie by his oldest daughters, who he was beginning to regret putting in charge of the cake. Sure, it looked great so far, but they were arguing about every point from icing colour to what kind of plate to put it on.

"Alright..." he said, rubbing his temple as he walked over to look at it. "...I don't see a problem with this, Moira, what's wrong? Why is it ridiculous?"

"Because the cake is sixty centimeters long, and the stars are all three centimeters, and I TOLD Franny to put them two centimeters apart but she put them one and a half centimeters and now the pattern is wrecked because there's a whole extra point three centimeters!" Moira huffed angrily. "She wrecked it!"

"It's a CAKE, not a math test, Moira, it's not a big deal!" Francis argued back. "Besides, we can always move this star over, and put another one over the edge."

"We have a border for a REASON, it's to contain things so they don't get chaotic!" Moira yelled.

"Alright!" Scotty said, raising his voice above his daughters'. "...for one, Francis, you're right, this isn't that big a deal, it's just a cake the boys are going to jam their hands in anyway. Moira, I understand you want things to be nice for your brothers, but...I think the only people that would ever notice would be Spock and your Papa, and chances are, your Papa will be too busy to."

"Told you so," Francis mumbled, giving her sister a look.

"Now...no, don't be like that, Franny, she's doing a great job," Scotty said, trying to think of how to best deal with the two of them so he could finish doing his own jobs. "In fact, you're doing such a great job, Moira, that you can finish this up by yourself. Franny, grab some balloons and start blowing."

Francis made a face, not appreciating being removed from something as prestigious as cake duty to blow up some stupid balloons. Moira, however, looked very pleased with herself, holding her head up higher as she went back to work. Scotty knew he'd have to make it up to Francis later, but it was worth having to get her another tribble or something for some peace and quiet.

"Hey Da, can I help with anything?" Dmitri asked as he walked in, heading right over to his father with a big smile on his face.

"Aren't you supposed to be helping with your little brothers?" Scotty said, a little surprised to see Dmitri there. Pavel had insisted on keeping one of the older kids back in their quarters to give him a hand, and Dmitri had happily volunteered as usual. "They're not heading down here yet, are they?"

"Oh, no...Papa said he had it all under control, though," Dmitri said, walking over to where Francis had begun to work on the balloon, picking one up. "He said I could come here and help."

"Suck uuup," Ilya grumbled from the corner, arranging some baps on a plate.

"It's not a bad thing to want to help out, Ilya," Dmitri argued back as he tied up the balloon.

"No, but it is a dorky thing," Ilya said.

"For the love of...leave your brother alone for one day, Ilya," Scotty sighed, wondering if he could get Pavel to agree to sending Ilya to Starfleet Academy early, or to shoving him out of the airlock. "Dmitri, I appreciate all the help I can get, thank you, ignore him. It's easy, trust me."

Ilya abandoned his baps for a second, walking over to throw his arms around Scotty's neck, kissing his cheek.

"Ohhh, Da...admit it, you can't ignore me," he said, grinning cheekily. "You looove me."

Scotty looked away from his PADD and into Ilya's eyes, raising an eyebrow as he kept his stern expression. It quickly broke, however, unfortunately Ilya was good at that. With a sigh, Scotty pressed a kiss against Ilya's temple, winding an arm around his waist.

"All the danger I've lived through on this ship, and you're going to be the one who kills me one day, I know it," Scotty sighed, shaking his head as he rubbed Ilya's back for a moment. "I swear..."

"Da, this isn't fair, make Ilya keep working!" Robbie said as he finished organizing the chairs. "All he's done all day is get in my way and replicate a couple dozen baps."

"Leave me alone, I'm hugging Da, he need love," Ilya said, not letting go of Scotty.

"I can handle food!" Dmitri volunteered cheerfully.

"No, you're helping me with all the balloons," Francis pointed out, shoving the box of balloons at him. "Because I'm too STUPID to make a cake!"

"I didn't say you were stupid, I said you were incompetent!" Moira said with a huff. "See, you can't even quote me right!"

"Maybe because I don't care what you have to say!"

"You call Dmitri a suck up, you're a million times worse!"

"I can do more than one thing!"

"You're not the bloody boss of everyone because you're the oldest!"

"Or maybe because you're INCOMPETENT!"

"SHUT IT!!!" Scotty finally snapped, his head feeling like it was about to explode. "Robbie, deal with the damn chairs, tables, and high decorations. Ilya, get the rest of the food, and get it on the tables, Dmitri and Francis will BOTH help you with that when they are done with the balloons, and Moira is going to make the cake and worry only about herself whilst she does so! And the next one of you to even TALK about something that isn't directly related to your assigned jobs in a NON ARGUMENTATIVE WAY is going to spending a damn month cataloguing botanical samples whilst your Uncle Spock gives you a talk on puberty!"

The Scott children froze, both out of surprise at their father's anger, and horror at the thought of Uncle Spock telling them about the birds and the bees. Without another word, they all set to their assigned jobs, afraid to even breathe much less argue any more. They were all fast workers when they had the motivation, and usually avoiding punishment tended to work the best to get them all going.

Scotty, in the meantime, stood in the center of the room as he ran a hand over his hair. He hoped Pavel appreciated all of this while he enjoyed his break with the wee ones, because Scotty was definitely going to need one after all of this.

 

Despite the hours of chaos that preceded it, the party was a complete success. The triplets had loved all of the food and attention, toddling around as fast as their chubby legs could carry them from guest to guest, insisting on being picked up and cuddled, while the other kids managed to drop their hostilities and get along for a while. The food, as always, was a hit and didn't last nearly as long as the festivities were, but then again, neither did the babies.

"We need better chairs in here," McCoy grumbled, adjusting Alexei in his arms as the boy dozed against his shoulder. "Would it kill them to slap some arms and padding on these things? I'm not as young as I used to be."

"Do you want me to take Alexei? He is probably not helping at all," Pavel said, sitting up and extending his arms, wanting to laugh when McCoy's grip on the baby tightened possessively.

"I have him, he's fine," McCoy said, his complaints stopping as he held his small namesake. It was common knowledge that he had a soft spot for all twelve of his godchildren, though none of the crew were stupid enough to try and call him on it. "He's sleeping, wouldn't want to wake him."

"Besides, you two need a break," Sulu said, David passed out in his arms, and Olesya fast asleep as she leaned against his legs. "I feel bad that I haven't been able to watch them for a while, or at least a few of them. I don't think I can handle taking all of them any more, my quarters aren't big enough."

Scotty shook his head, raising a hand.

"Don't feel bad, any time you can take any of them is a blessing, but we don't count on it," Scotty said, taking a drink of his tea. It wasn't often that he could relax with a cup of tea without having to worry about a little person climbing on him and upsetting the hot liquid. "Trust me, this is lovely, I'm enjoying just a bit of time to have my hands to myself."

At the same time, he couldn't help looking at his tiny sons, missing their sleeping weight against his chest. He loved hearing the sound of their low breathing as they dozed, feeling their chests rise and fall against his own. He knew it was good for them to have time with their uncles, the children loved the other members of the crew and were loved in turn, but they were his boys and girls.

"At least they should sleep in tomorrow with all this commotion, right?" Kirk asked, looking down at Mark. "They were running around for hours, they'll probably sleep half the day away."

"You're not very used to babies, are you?" Uhura laughed, watching Spock who was watching Anastasia sleep, making faces as she dreamt about who knows what. "They'll be up early, hyper as ever, running all over. It's Pavel and Scotty that will be exhausted."

Pavel shook his head, chuckling softly as Kirk looked at Uhura in disbelief.

"She is right," he said, amused by Kirk's wince of horror. "I swear, our house never sleeps, there is always someone needing something, some sort of cleaning or disaster or nightmare or something needing my attention. I have not slept through the night in fifteen years, but I have gotten used to no rest and cold food."

He looked over at Robbie, who was sitting with Ilya and Dmitri working on his third slice of cake and joking about something as Frances and Moira played with one of the 3-D chess sets that had been set aside for the party, Yuri lying on his stomach and watching as he snacked away on a plate of sweets. Simon, who had been asleep across a pair of chairs off to the side, was currently making his way over to the group, sleepily rubbing at his eyes as he climbed into Scotty's lap.

"It is worth it, though," Pavel said, his smile widening as he watched his husband's arms wound protectively around Simon, pulling his young son against his body. Scotty immediately looked more comfortable, more in his element, with a child in his arms.

"Aye," Scotty said, adjusting Simon in his lap so the boy could use his chest as a pillow. "Even when they're being wee devils..."

The peace in the room had wiped the memories of his earlier frustration from his mind, that wasn't important to him, not when he had moments like this. No matter how exhausted and stressed he was with his children, every morning he woke up with a need to see them, have them close to him. He could see himself in them, combined with the man he loved, and being to hold the living, breathing symbol of their love and bond in his arms was almost overwhelming.

And to think, there were twelve of them.

"Pasha?" Scotty asked softly, staring down at Simon's sleeping face.

"Yes, Monty?" Pavel asked, leaning over, resting his head on Scotty's shoulder to look at their son as well.

Before Scotty could speak, he realized what he was about to say, and he was horrified. It only took a second for him to repress the thought, and the urge behind it, he loved his Pavel, he needed him dearly. He couldn't do this without him, none of them could, and there was nothing he would risk Pavel for, not just for him, but for their children who dearly deserved to grow up with their father.

"Thank you," Scotty said, kissing his forehead, nuzzling it. "I can never thank you enough..."


End file.
